


The Guardian

by Sister of Silence (EmpressofMankind)



Category: Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: Drama, Gen, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 15:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressofMankind/pseuds/Sister%20of%20Silence
Summary: Written for a friend who gave me the prompt of one character swearing to always protect the other, with World Eater Thrax and Inquisitor Vallerie Desjardin. Unfortunately, I made it horrible.





	The Guardian

Subha Thrax squinted against the alien suns setting on the smoking ruins of the desert metropolis. It had been an oasis of knowledge and civilization amid the harried worlds of Eye-space. He had liked it here. It reminded him of home. He’d been born to Ryn, in south-western Ursh. Tatters of images surfaced from the recesses of his mutilated mind. Images of hot summer days. Of racing horses across the sand dunes. Of his twin brother’s roaring laughter. They came in fits and starts, like the shards of something precious that had been broken and wouldn’t be fit back together the way it should. He shook his head angrily, violently. As if the physical motion could rid him of the painful shards. The Nails click-click-clicked in his mind, loud and laborious like old cog-wheels in a clockbox. He hit the butt of his palm against his forehead, weapon chain rattling with every blow. His face contorted into a pained rictus as he glared at the blackened landscape and bared his pointed teeth at the molten sandstone. Parsa reminded him of home even more now.

There was nothing left of the beautiful pairidaeza around him. It’s carefully nurtured greenery had burned, it’s carved columns fallen and the quiet waters had ran red with blood. Mutilated corpses laid upon crushed lilies and across toppled statues alike. Many had heard Dirge before they heard nothing at all. Thrax grabbed the haft of his two-handed chainaxe and pulled it from the chest he had embedded it in with a sickening squelch. Blood gushed from the savage wound with the last beats of his enemy’s twin hearts, staining the glaucous ceramite red.

Where was she? His gaze hunted around the broken paradise garden. She’d been here. He’d been right beside her. The Nails clicked louder. Where was she?! Sunlight winked off gilded tracery in the corner of his eyes. Sapphire ceramite and white cloth amid the dull hues of their enemies. The sorcerer. Thrax knew the sorcerer hated their enemies. He hated them as much as Thrax himself did. They had destroyed his home too. And for what? No reason. No reason! And now they had done it again.

Thrax heaved his ax on his shoulder and stalked towards the sorcerer’s bright white and sapphire. And red. A lot of red, Thrax saw as he approached. The sorcerer was tougher than he looked, even without his warp magic. Enemies were piled high around him. Singed or molten, some even turned inside out. The twitch of the Nails within his mind eased fractionally when he saw she was with him. She sat curled against the sorcerer’s side in the shadow of a pauldron and shielded by the bulk of his sapphire-and-gold power armour. Thrax snorted, nose wrinkling as his brain struggled to analyze the faint scent underneath the charnel stench of the place. He growled when its meaning clicked home. Tears. She’d cried. Why had she cried? The left side of his face twitched as the Nails clicked louder. Who’d made her cry? His gaze snapped around the ruined garden, jumping from corpse to corpse, hunting for the culprit. His grip spasmed around the haft of his chainaxe. There was no one left alive.

Thrax looked down at the sorcerer and his lady. He looked at them for a long moment, a deep frown creasing his brutish features. This was a bad place to rest. Too open. He couldn’t guard them well here. Thrax put his axe in its maglocked harnass across the backpack of his power armour and gently gathered up her limp body, as not to wake her. She didn’t like being woken from naps. She must be very tired from the battle. He was tired too. Thrax shifted her onto his left arm, holding her close against his chest. Her pale limbs felt cool despite the warm sun. He leaned down and grabbed the sorcerer by the back rim of his chestplate with his free hand and dragged him along as he made his way to the back of the pairidaeza. One of its once many semi-secluded corridors remained standing. It led to a small inner garden, miraculously unscathed. Its fountain sprayed a gentle stream of fresh water under a canopy of flowering foliage. The stench of death was almost overpowered by the blooming plants.

The World Eater put them down in one of the corners, amid the carpets and soft pillows intended for such lounging. He made sure to lean her against the sorcerer in exactly the same way as he had found her. Though he did nestle a pillow roll between her slender shoulder and pale cheek. Ceramite was not very pleasant to rest upon. Thrax frowned, then pushed the low, intricately carved table standing across towards them, careful not the break the decanter on it. The liquid sloshing inside the crystal carafe gave off a strong smell that didn’t agree with him. He picked up the toppled hookah laying nearby and shook it beside his face. It rattled. Broken? He put it down beside the sorcerer anyway. He’d be cranky when he woke, he always was after battles. Warp magic made the sorcerer’s head hurt. Thrax’ head always hurt. On second thought, he gathered up all the scrolls and books he could find and piled them up beside the sorcerer as well. Just in case. Thrax scrutinized his handiwork with a critical eye. And noticed she wasn’t wearing her favourite coat. No wonder she was so cold. He’d go and find it for her. Thrax reached up and tore one of the curtains providing shadow down, then gently draped the soft, block-printed cloth around her. He rose and strode out of the small sanctuary, intending to look for her missing coat.

It was then that he saw them, and they him. They were scrounging the pairidaeza, scavenging among the dead and dying like hungry curs. When they saw him, they howled and broke into a wild run, their feral brethren bounding ahead with inhuman leaps. Thrax unsheathed his chainaxe as he jogged towards them. The Nails click-click-clicked louder with each heavy step. They’d destroyed his home. They’d made her cry. He’d sworn he’d always keep her safe. He roared as Dirge revved to life in his grip, and broke into a headlong charge. He would!

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: A lot of time and hard work went into the creation and publication of this story and as such it is very dear to me. I would love to hear what you thought of it. And please, share this story freely but credit me and link back to me. Thank you!


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